


Weapon Reforged

by khaoticwoes



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Family Dynamics, Fantasy, Fluff, Platonic Relationships, Reincarnation, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29258886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaoticwoes/pseuds/khaoticwoes
Summary: Technoblade had traveled back in time.He had no idea how or why, but it was a chance given to him at his own execution. It was a chance he would not waste. Memories of deaths and becoming a weapon just to please his own father whirled around in his own mind. Never again would he become a weapon to be used and discarded.This time, Technoblade was going to live his own life for himself.(Reincarnation Royalty AU where Technoblade travels back to his eight year old self after being killed by his own father, the tyrant king)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter 1

**_“The Blade”_ **

**_“My unfinished symphony!”_ **

Ashes fell from the sky, gray tears that clung to his clothes and skin. A crumpled letter sat in his pocket, too smudged in dirt and grime to be readable, but he remembered every word by heart.

**_“People are above the government-”_ **

**_“I’M A PERSON TOO!”_ **

Blood littered the grounds and stained his hands. None of it was his. The remains and debris of a fallen kingdom laid under his feet, never to stand again. Blue eyes stared at his own red ones, that is until he lifted his weapon and fired.

**_“What do I have to do to be your son?!”_ **

A sword was aimed at his head, not his chest. Never his chest. Not after Wilbur.

**_“You were never my son.”_ **

Cold eyes shone underneath a darkened face, wings covering all light from the bleak, red sun. The blade lifted away from his neck, only to swing back down.

**_“_ _Technoblade never dies.”_ **

_There was once a story of a tyrant king with three sons. Each son had met their demise, a grim fate. A passionate leader who crumbled under pressure who died at the hands of his father. A fiery rebel loved by the people and killed by his own brother. And a weapon, a human with no humanity who spilled blood in his path until his own blood was spilled by the tyrant king._

_This story was a tragedy._

_But this is not that story. Not anymore_.

Eyes opened, expecting to see the half-ruined throne hall and the incoming blade that promised the end of his life. But instead of the dead, glowing eyes of his fa- the king, he was met with warmer blue eyes, smiling at him from the other end of the hall.

_What?_

The king was supposed to be right in front of him, ready to execute him right where he kneeled on the ground. But now he was on the other side of the room, in a hall pristine and untouched by battle with no blood in sight. This was not the war-torn throne hall that was almost destroyed by the rebels, and this was not _his king_.

But the biggest change that confirmed this was not his reality was the young boy with curly hair, sticking by his father’s side. He didn’t even reach Phil’s chest yet, far from the towering height he had once he reached sixteen. There was no bleeding wound on his chest or dirty rags, but a bright royal suit adorned with precious metals and gems. Peach brown eyes stared into his own as they squinted into a small smile.

It was Wilbur. It was Wilbur who was younger but _alive_.

“You must focus, Your Royal Highness!” 

Only then did he realize the familiar weight of a sword handle in his palms. A glint of a blade flashed in the corner of his eyes and he swiftly parried the incoming attack with ease, years of battle and training ingrained in his every move. But his steps slightly faltered when he saw his opponent. It was Sir Hubert, the Captain of the Royal Guard. 

The knight was supposed to be _dead_ , killed after trying to protect Wilbur from-

Sir Hubert charged again, blade aimed at his very neck with the intent to kill. He remembered the image of the king in front of him, swinging the sword in the same way, the sights blurring together. But this time, he would no longer accept his fate.

Ducking under the blade, almost failing due to the sudden change in his own height ( _why was he so short?!_ ) _,_ he swung against the blade. The force behind the blow would be enough to cut a man in half but he held strong, even pushing back against the sword. _Good_. In a duel like this, only by attacking with killer intent could anyone begin to prove a challenge to him, even if it was the best knight in the kingdom against a mere child.

_It wasn’t as if he was going to die anyway._

As if it was written in stone, Sir Hubert lunged and attacked exactly the same way he remembered. A feint to his left. The jab to his arm. He knew what would happen before his opponent even did. He already had this battle, had _won_ this battle thirteen years ago. Everything was exactly the same, everything but the boy himself. Knowing that Sir Hubert would aim for his right, he dashed forwards and under the swing. Although this small body of his was still so foreign, muscle memory and his battle experience pushed him forwards and around the incoming attacks in ways an eight-year-old never should have been able to. 

This body was smaller and weaker than his adult one, and it would normally be incapable of defeating such a large and powerful man like Sir Hubert. In the past, while he had won the duel, it was a long and arduous struggle. But he wouldn't struggle this time. With a move he had learned as an adult during one of the many wars, he set his sights on the incoming attack and lunged.

He dragged his own sword against the other blade and twisted, disarming the weapon from Sir Hubert. In a split second, the end of his own blade was pointed to the Captain’s neck, ready to pierce through the throat at any given signal.

Like the past, he won, defeating the Captain of the Royal Guard, the best knight of the Kingdom at only the age of eight. _Exactly_ like the past.

 _Why_? Why was he reliving the exact same events as he did in the past? He was supposed to be dead, killed by the hands of his own father like Wilbur. But he wasn’t dead, and neither was Wilbur. Wilbur was still young and alive and _right there_ _by_ -

“The victor of this duel,” A voice began. He whipped his head to the throne where the king sat. Rising from his seat, King Phil began to walk over to where he stood, blade still pointed at Sir Hubert. Wilbur followed behind him, slightly clinging onto the royal robes of his father. The king still wore the same hat like always, his refusal to replace his hat with the crown remaining strong from his birth all the way to his death. But even without a crown, authority and power emanated from him in waves, dripping from every movement as he came closer.

This was the very same man who killed two of his sons without remorse and abandoned the youngest into the streets. The tyrant who buried his kingdom deep in war and blood.

The man was his father, King Philza, ruler of the kingdom Minecraft.

“-is my son, Prince Technoblade of Minecraft. Congratulations.”

And the roar of applause broke out around them, the spectators and audience cheering for the prince. This was a momentous occasion after all. As a battle of strength and skill, the winner of this duel would prove the worth of the victor and gain a single wish from the king himself. Not only that, but the young prince himself had beaten the Captain of the Royal Guard with ease and in record time, something so implausible yet true.

Even Wilbur who stood next to Phil was surprised and fidgeting, the urge to run up to his brother still painfully clear at this age, even with his etiquette training. The child was nothing like the older man Techno once knew, the charismatic leader who hid everything behind his own eyes and heart and controlled the world with puppet strings.

But… he preferred this innocent, younger version better. A Wilbur still mostly untainted from insanity and not yet broken.

“As promised, as the victor of this battle, you have the permission to have a wish granted by the king of this kingdom. Tell me, my son, what is your wish?”

 _Son_. Technoblade couldn’t remember the last time he was called this with any hint of affection. But here he was, being called this term of affection that he would have killed, and _did_ kill, anyone without mercy in order to gain it. But now, he didn’t care anymore. That word meant nothing to him.

Not after a life of endless pain and suffering. Not after the deaths of his own brothers and the ruin of his kingdom. Not after his own death.

He looked at his own palms, so small and littered with fewer callouses than he had. They, along with everything else, was proof that things were no longer like the present. This was his past.

Technoblade had traveled back in time. 

He had no idea how or why, but it was a chance given to him at his own execution. It was a chance he would not waste. Memories of deaths and becoming a weapon just to please his own father whirled around in his own mind. Never again would he become a weapon to be used and discarded.

This time, Technoblade was going to live his own life for himself. 

He looked at Wilbur, the young child still so bright and warm. 

And if Technoblade could change the past and correct his mistakes, if he could keep his brothers _alive_ -

Then he was going to take this chance.

“Well?” Phil asked once again, patiently waiting before him as the silence lingered. Technoblade remembered his past wish, the very reason he decided to partake in this duel in the first blade.

At age eight, Technoblade had wished to become a knight, becoming the youngest person ever to become a part of the Royal Guard. It was part of his dreams in hopes of impressing his father, making him proud.

In the end, it did nothing to prevent his father from killing him in cold blood.

This time around, he didn’t want the same wish. He didn’t care about becoming a knight at this age, nor the fame or pride that would come with it. Not when it would spark jealousy and cause animosity between him and Wilbur. Not when he wanted to deviate from his past and finally just live his life.

He was just so tired. So he said for once, what he truly wanted.

“I want to sleep.”

Silence enveloped the entire hall.

“W-what?” It was rare for the king to stutter, but everyone in the entire hall but Technoblade himself was shocked.

“As I said Your Majesty, I am very tired and would like to sleep. I wish for a break from all of my duties for a while in order to relax and care for myself.” With a practiced bow, he gracefully lowered his head, missing Phil’s face of shock and confusion. But the silence could not go on, and Phil had to grant the wish no matter what.

He was almost tempted to ask if he was sure, but Technoblade was always certain of his decisions. So instead, much to the surprise of everyone, he announced to the entire hall, “Very well. As king of Minecraft, I hereby grant Prince Technoblade a pardon of his duties and a period of break… may you enjoy your rest.”

With that announcement, the crowd hesitantly clapped, unsure of what the proper response was. Technoblade did not care for their awkwardness in confusion. Instead, he stood back up. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He said. And with that, he turned around with his head held high, cape fluttering behind him, leaving the throne room and baffled people behind.

None of them saw the small smile on the prince’s face as he left.

He was going to change his fate no matter what.

Back in the throne hall, the king stood there baffled as his other son quickly left to follow his brother.

“... did he just call me ‘Your Majesty?’”

After a few moments, Technoblade finally reached his room after mistakenly walking to the previous room he had as an adult. As of now, he still lived in his childhood room, one decked with pastel blues instead of darker hues that covered the color of blood. The room was foreign and strange yet familiar at the same time. The sense of nostalgia clashing with his past memories. He was eight years old now, not twenty-one, and he had to get used to the fact he was back in the past.

Oh gods, he was back in the past.

Quick footsteps with an agenda were soon followed by doors slamming wide open. With heavy breaths, Wilbur burst into the room and immediately focused on Techno. After gaining his breath, Wilbur decided to immediately empty his lungs again by screaming at him.

“What were you thinking?! Rest?! What happened to your goal of being the youngest knight? Why would you lie to father?” Wilbur grilled him, asking question after question while he dug his finger deeper and deeper into his chest.

Technoblade probably was supposed to be feeling chastised or guilty as his older brother shouted at him, but the anger and frustration rolling off the younger, child version of his brother only served to make him laugh. Pouty cheeks and baby fat was not a single bit threatening to an adult Technoblade who literally went through death and back.

Wilbur yelped in indignation when Techno burst into laughter, pouting even harder. “Why are you laughing?! Techno!” He only began to laugh harder, tears beginning to prick his eyes.

He missed this. He missed _Wilbur_. Being here, able to laugh and talk with his older brother again was a dream come true, a second chance at life. 

Wilbur’s frustration quickly died away, soon replaced with the same confusion he had felt earlier. Something about Techno was _different_ . He couldn’t remember the last time his baby brother laughed so hard to the point of tears. Something _changed_. 

But as he heard the contagious laughter of his brother, it was hard for him to not join in and laugh along. The two brothers laughed in unison, both for different reasons yet the same.

 _Well_ . Wilbur preferred a happy, laughing Technoblade compared to his brother who was self-destructive and desperate to achieve more. The heavy look in his eyes as he ranted to him about gaining Phil’s approval in the past was gone, replaced by squinted eyes brimming with joy. _Maybe this was a nice change_.

Finally, after the laughter died down, Technoblade grabbed Wilbur’s hands in his own. “I wasn’t lying, Will. I really wanted to rest. Look at me!” And Wilbur did. His own focus on yelling at Techno caused him to miss how his younger brother was already changed and dressed in sleepwear.

“B-but why? Didn’t you want to be a knight ?” Wilbur asked in confusion and with a bit of suspicion.

“Ehhhh. Being a knight sounds tiring and I really am tired. I wanna sleep, and you should too.” And with that, Techno began dragging his older brother to his own bed before collapsing onto the mountain of puffy sheets and pillows.

Wilbur, still being grabbed onto by Techno, was at the edge of the bed and refusing to budge. “W- Techno! It’s literally midday and I’m not even dressed for sleeping- Techno!” Wilbur’s refusals were ignored as Techno used his inhumane strength to physically drag Wilbur on the bed and by his side. Trapping him in his arms, he rested his head onto Wilbur’s shoulders and muttered into the clothes.

“I’m tired, Wilbur. Sleep.” And like that, Techno was passed out, asleep and dead to the world.

Wilbur just sighed and succumbed to his fate. There was no escaping Techno’s grasp now, not with his strength. Besides, if he moved, Techno would just wake up and drag him back. Wilbur didn’t mind really staying here. His brother needed his rest. Technoblade was constantly driven and motivated to the point of barely sleeping or eating. Right now, this was a big change and improvement.

 _Change_ …

Wilbur looked down at his brother resting on his shoulder. Technoblade was changing, and he didn’t know why. His brother would never have selfishly given into his own desires and sleep the day away, especially not dragging Wilbur who had his own busy schedule, into it. 

He was prepared for today, ready to see his younger brother become the youngest knight ever in history and add another achievement to the pile that proved his superiority. He was to sit back and wallow in bitterness while his brother would be showered in praises. He wasn't ready for Techno to throw all of that away, acting in such a way that even Wilbur was surprised beyond belief.

It's been years since the brothers even slept in the same bed, willingly or not. He doubted he could stand being next to his brother for so long. But looking at the rare, peaceful face of content on Techno, Wilbur thought that this wasn’t such a bad change. Not at all. He hoped that this strange anomaly wasn't a one-time thing. Maybe Techno would begin to care more for himself and less about others, especially their father. Maybe he might even begin to depend more on Wilbur as his older brother.

And with that, he began to drift off to sleep with only one thought in mind.

‘ _My clothes are really uncomfortable…_ ’

Deep into the night, the door silently opened and a figure slipped in. King Philza stood at the doorway, staring at the two boys blissfully sleeping on the bed. Technoblade in his pajamas and Wilbur still covered in his royal suit. According to the servants's reports, the two boys have been sleeping all day, unmoving and unaware.

‘ _Your Majesty…_ ’

Phil frowned. Technoblade had never called him Your Majesty before. Both him, Wilbur, and even Tommy called him father, even in front of other people. Ignoring customs, Phil allowed his sons to bypass etiquette and call him father because he _was_ their father. But hearing Techno call him ‘Your Majesty’ with such ease and experience…

His mouth tasted bitter. He silently sighed, carefully walking towards his son and kissing them softly on their heads before leaving the room. The boys needed their rest, especially Techno who used up an entire Imperial wish just to get rest. He could have just asked and he would’ve given it to him…

Back in the room, eyes opened to reveal blood-red pupils, wide awake. Technoblade laid there, still on top of a sleeping Wilbur who was drooling onto the pillows below. He knew Phil was there, already awake and alert the moment he was outside his room. He didn’t know why the king visited them. The soft kiss he gave them almost burned and felt foreign on his forehead. It had been too long since the king had given him any sign of affection. There certainly was none when he decided to execute him with his very own hands.

Maybe it was because it was still the past, back in the time before everything went to ruin. He didn’t know how long these things would last, but as long as he was here, he vowed to change things. Never again would he let the past reoccur.

His small hand reached up to Wilbur’s curly hair and brushed it away from his closed eyes. No, he would change things for the better. He _promised_.

And with that, Technoblade went back to sleep with Wilbur in his arms, getting the rest he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 21-year-old Technoblade was reborn into his 8-year-old self. What will he do? Hopefully fewer crimes and killing hahaha.
> 
> Edit: I made some changes to this chapter to fit future chapters better so please reread it if you have not yet done so!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But to his immense relief and disbelief, he was still asleep in his childhood room. Technoblade was no longer a traumatized adult, but a traumatized child. He stood up on his bed and lightly ran his hands over his smaller limbs. There were too few scars than he remembered, fewer burns and cuts that once littered his adult body.
> 
> At the age of twenty-one, Technoblade was about to be killed by his father, but now he had reincarnated back into his younger body. Was he reborn, or was it some type of time travel? None of this should have been possible, yet here he was in the past.

_Heavy footsteps stomped down the halls, each step threatening to break the floor from the sheer force. Technoblade reached the large doors, the anger in his veins and voices screaming at him to break the door down. But habits were hard to break and the mere thought of the man on the other side of the doors made him pause and gently open the door instead._

_Inside, sitting behind a desk with his head in his hands was the King. Phil didn’t move, almost as if he was expecting Techno. A spike of anger hit. Phil better have damn well expected this._

_"Phil! What are you doing? Executing Wilbur?! He’s the Crown prince and your son- "_

_"Wilbur will be executed for his crimes and failures tomorrow at dawn and that is final. The title of Crown Prince had been stripped from that man a long time ago, you know this Techno.” Phil interrupted, still not daring to look up._

_That coward._

_Burning fury bubbled underneath his skin as he stared at the king. Many floors below them was their son and brother bound in chains and waiting for death. Even Techno’s undying respect and loyalty to his father had limits. Limits that were never reached until now._

_A roar ripped from his throat as he shouted. “That man- you seriously called him ‘that man’ I- HE IS YOUR SON, PHIL. YOU ARE OUR FATHER-”_

_“WATCH YOUR TONGUE. I am the ruler of this kingdom and you will address me as such. And that man… he is no longer my son.” Phil finally looked up, his dead, blue eyes just as cold and sharp as his words. The fire in Techno was immediately smothered by the ice, leaving him frozen in place._

_Years of servitude and chasing after something so out of his reach formed chains around him, just like the chains around Wilbur. But these chains were invisible, forcing him to listen to Phil like the good little child he had been for so many years. But Technoblade was no child. And he was no son._

_Technoblade wondered what might have happened if he was more than just a soldier or tool. More than a_ **_weapon_ ** _. What could have happened if he finally said no and made a choice._

_But weapons do not speak nor make decisions. And Technoblade was a weapon and nothing more._

_Finally, he turned away from his fa- the king. “As you wish… Your Majesty.”_

_The doors closed behind Technoblade as he left._

_~~~_

“Your Royal Highnesses, I am coming in.”

Technoblade woke up to knocking and a light voice before the doors to his room opened. A dark feeling remained in the pit of his stomach, but he could not remember why. For now, he focused on the person entering his room. If a normal person were to enter a royal member’s room without permission, their fate would soon be nothing but early death. However, the girl who entered the room was far from a normal person.

It was Nikki.

The sweet girl who was younger than the two princes bowed upon entry, her maid skirt brushing lightly against the floor. Her hair was still blonde and in a short bob instead of the fierce, long pink hair she adorned in the future.

“I apologize for interrupting your sleep Prince Technoblade. As per royal command, you are given a pardon of your work and currently have no required duties. However, as you might already know, I am here for Prince Wilbur who is _not_ pardoned from his responsibilities.” Her voice was elegant, matching her bright smile, but Techno could sense the hint of amusement and tease in her voice. He missed this. He missed _Nikki_.

Out of the many things in the past Technoblade had missed, it was Nikki, the personal servant of Prince Wilbur, and most importantly, their friend. She had been chosen and raised to serve them since they were young, younger than they were now. Being by their sides for years, mostly Wilbur’s, Nikki had become a valuable and close friend. A friend Technblade had missed.

Nikki was never the same after Wilbur’s death. For so long she remained detached and despaired after the execution and isolated herself. He only realized too late that she had followed Wilbur’s footsteps and spiraled into insanity. Her attempts to assassinate the king only made her more like Wilbur. 

Both were killed by the king.

That was another thing he vowed to change in this life. Nikki was still young, his close and trusted friend, and he would make sure she lived the happy life she deserved. Besides, Technoblade missed his best sparring partner.

He sat up tiredly, not caring about his messy, ungraceful bedhead and display. She had certainly seen much worse in the past and future. Sparing Nikki the trouble, he turned over to his brother and shook him around. The other prince still had drool dried and stuck onto his face and the pillows while he remained dead to the world.

“Wil, get up,” Technoblade said, only to get nothing in response. He sighed and shook even harder. “Nikki’s here to get you, so don’t make her wait.”

“I don’t wan- wait Nikki?!” Wilbur’s nonsensical muttering turned into panic as he sat straight up and stared at the maid. She remained standing by the bed, giving a practiced closed eye smile.

“Hello, Your Royal Highness. It is morning and time to get ready. You have a busy day today.” Her smile grew wider as a warning. Wilbur scrambled out of the bed, slightly tripping over Techno who remained in bed and took joy in watching his brother scurry around in panic. It was understandable. Who wouldn’t be scared of Nikki? Even Techno had his decent dose of fear of the girl.

“Wilbur, your mouth.” Techno drawled out as Wilbur finally got out of bed. The boy stood confused for a second as he tentatively touched his mouth. He barked out in laughter when Wilbur felt the dry drool and quickly wiped his mouth in embarrassment. He clearly was more affected by his unruly, sleepy appearance than Techno.

“Again, you have a tight schedule Prince Wilbur and we must leave at once. This is not your room, after all.” Nikki pointed out before “gently” grabbing Wilbur’s sleeve and dragging him away. It would horrify people to see a maid dragging around a prince, but this was a common sight to see among the palace. Even as a maid, Nikki’s status was extremely high due to her noble origins and status as Wilbur’s personal maid. Besides, she was much more than a simple maid.

A simple maid wouldn’t be able to kill a person instantly in cold blood, after all.

Ignoring Wilbur’s protests, Nikki pulled him out of the room, but not before quickly dropping her professionalism and giving Techno a casual wave. He gave a lazy wave back, and the door shut.

He was finally alone in his room. His hand was paused mid-wave, his fingers twitching before he forced it back down. To be honest, even at that moment, a part of him screamed to run back to Wilbur and Nikki, to hold them in his arms and never let go. He had lost them once. He never wanted to lose them again.

But this life was different now. They were still young, and Technoblade refused to repeat his past life, but it would have been strange if he had acted out rashly and held them back. It would have done nothing at all to help the current situation. He had years left to live, hopefully, more than his previous life. There was still time to cherish and care for the people close to him.

With that in mind, Technoblade fell back onto his bed and closed his eyes. If he had time to change the future then he had time to sleep. He had spent so many years with so little sleep in the past, and that was something he was glad to change starting now. And with that, he passed out.

Technoblade woke up for the second time that day, except by now it was afternoon. He almost expected to open his eyes and be back in that ruined throne hall with Philza above him about to swing his sword. Or maybe his old room with the dark carpet forever stained with blood or the battlefield with his dead brother’s corpse below him.

But to his immense relief and disbelief, he was still asleep in his childhood room. Technoblade was no longer a traumatized adult, but a traumatized child. He stood up on his bed and lightly ran his hands over his smaller limbs. There were too few scars than he remembered, fewer burns and cuts that once littered his adult body.

At the age of twenty-one, Technoblade was about to be killed by his father, but now he had reincarnated back into his younger body. Was he reborn, or was it some type of time travel? None of this should have been possible, yet here he was in the past.

And it wasn’t a dream, couldn’t be. He wasn’t foolish enough to entertain that thought. A dream couldn’t simply hold all the details and experiences of years of suffering. It wasn’t even a dream at that point, but a nightmare. Technoblade remembered each and every day, each choice and action that led to the ruin of the people around him.

Not only that, but the very same events happened as they had before. In both timelines, he had fought against Sir Hubert in a duel and was the victor. Each move was exactly the same as before. What wasn’t the same was Techno himself.

So this wasn’t a dream, but that was a good thing. It gave him the advantage of knowing the future. It gave him a chance to change it all and by the gods, Technoblade would take it and never let go.

Looking at the sun high in the sky, he realized he was already changing the past. He changed his wish, choosing to rest instead of becoming the youngest knight in history. There was no point or benefit in becoming a knight this time around, not anymore. 

Another change was the fact he had slept past breakfast and most likely lunch. In the past, Technoblade never failed to arrive for his meals at the dining hall in hopes to eat with his father. Even with his busy schedule and training, he was always there. But that wasn’t the same for the others. As the years went on, less and less of his family members attended the meals, and in the end, Technoblade would eat alone.

This time, Technoblade would eat a meal in his own bed for the first time. It was a trivial matter, but a simple pleasure he never dared to indulge himself. Now? Screw it all he was eating in bed.

As promised by the king, Technoblade was granted rest and had no one to bother him. No one dared to interrupt or bother the prince with any ordeals such as meals or help to change clothes. If he truly needed aid he could easily summon them with a single call. Besides, he had his own personal servant to tend to his needs.

It was a shame that he was so annoying.

“Skeppy!”

Instantly, the young boy entered the room with a flourish before taking a dramatic and slightly sarcastic bow. “How may I serve you today, your Royal Highness?” Techno snorted at his butler’s antics. 

The young boy was short and even shorter when he bowed. Thinking about it, even when they had both grown older, Skeppy had always remained somewhat short, especially compared to Techno’s future tall frame. His bright butler’s suit contrasted his dark skin and was adorned with small diamonds, simply screaming the true status and worth of the child before him.

Despite his unique personality, Skeppy was a talented and extremely skilled person, having been raised and taught to serve just like Nikki was. Personal servants raised to forever serve and protect the royal family. Ready to serve and ready to _kill_.

Skeppy was, truly, an amazing butler and friend. But Techno would not hesitate to drop Skeppy in an instant for Nikki. He knew older siblings, especially the Crown Prince, would get the better servant, but really?

Skeppy could almost sense his distaste and stuck a tongue out at him impishly. “Well, you seem happy to see me. What did you want?” 

What a brat. Technoblade smiled. _Good_.

“I’m starving. Don’t let your prince starve, you fool. I want my meal in bed.” And with a wave, Techno dismissed Skeppy who stood a bit shocked before rolling his eyes and quickly leaving. Never had Techno asked for a meal in bed but Skeppy knew better than to question him. He didn’t miss the extra pep in his butler’s steps as he headed towards the kitchens.

Gods, did he miss that little gremlin. A fond smile graced his lips as he stared at where Skeppy just was. As his personal butler, Skeppy was one of the closest friends, if not _the_ closest, he ever had in the past. He was also one of the few people who got their happy ending stolen and screwed over. He was just joking when he said he would trade him for Nikki… mostly.

Remembering a small memory, Techno hastily lifted his pajama pants and let out a relieved sigh when he saw the red scar that graced his left calf. He was glad to see that he still had this little memento. It made sense after all since he got this scar when he was six, but seeing it still gave some proof that he was back in the past since it lacked the burns he would get when he was sixteen. When he got burnt in the past and realized the burn scars covered the cut underneath, he was downtrodden for days much to Skeppy’s amusement.

He received this little “gift” at the first spar Skeppy had ever won against Technoblade. They were both six but very skilled. Even then, Skeppy had never once managed to beat him. People barely ever did, even at his young age. What’s more was that Skeppy wasn’t as skilled as Nikki who managed to at least claim victory in a few spars. 

While Skeppy was not as swift or ruthless as Nikki, he had none of the chivalry she did. He couldn’t afford to. Instead, his fighting was dirty, destructive, and oh so _fun_. Their spars would often lead to a broken arena and a dirty mess, much to everyone’s horror. He tried numerous times to use explosives, only to get scolded in his attempts to accidentally murdering a prince.

He was never too successful in defeating Techno. However, at the age of six, Skeppy had his first victory. It was more of a fluke, really. A stray explosive broke the ground near him and sprayed dirt all over the area and into his eyes. Even without his sight, Technoblade could still fight, but not that well. When Skeppy charged towards him, his sword was in front of him and ready.

And it would have been perfectly fine. Technoblade was ready to defend against any attack… but it wasn’t really an attack. Last second, Skeppy tripped on the loose ground caused by the explosion and essentially flew towards him. Techno didn’t expect the sudden pause in his opponent’s steps, and he certainly did not expect to have an entire body thrown on top of him.

The two children fell onto a heap on the ground, a deep cut on Techno’s calf from the dagger Skeppy held while he fell. Skeppy for once recovered first and realized he had the upper hand and quickly aimed the dagger at Techno’s neck.

He loathed to admit it at the time, but he gave the win the Skeppy. But thinking about it now, the absolute joy and pride in the six-year-old Skeppy made the loss more than worth it. Technoblade promised that he would make sure Skeppy received his happy ending again. 

In the past (his future- _future_? No, his other past… ), no matter how much Skeppy vehemently protested, Techno fired Skeppy as his butler and sent him away. During all the wars, battles, and deaths- oh gods all the death- it was almost guaranteed that Skeppy would join the dead if he stayed by his side. After all, Techno himself was killed, and if he wasn’t safe then his butler certainly wasn’t.

So using what power he had left, he forced Skeppy to convince his friend and partner to run away and leave the country. It was a whole ordeal in itself, trying to convince the other person to leave with Skeppy. According to his butler, the other man was loyal and caring to a fault, a person worthy of his friend.

But his memory was hazy and he could not for his life remember who this other person was…

A knock. “Prince Technoblade, your meal is here.” Skeppy’s voice called out as he entered the room with a cart filled to the brim with his favorite foods. Instantly, he eyed the mashed potatoes and potato soup. Bless his butler.

Disregarding all formality, Techno made grabby hands towards the food as he impatiently urged Skeppy to hurry. He was eight and he would use that to his advantage goddammit. But he forgot that even at a young age, he was mature beyond normality and never dared to share a hint of childishness. Skeppy was once again shocked by the change in his master. 

“A- are you sure you want to eat in here? Lunch just started in the dining hall and the king is there.” Skeppy cautiously said.

No reaction. Nothing. His ears didn’t even perk up at the mention of the king. This definitely was not the Technoblade Skeppy knew. Was he dying?!

Techno, oblivious to Skeppy’s internal breakdown, began his meal and started grabbing some food.

Skeppy began to panic a bit more. “Are you really not joining? Wilbur is there and Tommy had been wanting to congratulate you since yesterday.” This time, Techno reacted, but it wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

There was no joy or exasperation at the mention of his brothers. Instead, the prince was frozen stiff as his gaze bore holes into the potato soup in his hands. For the first time in his life, Skeppy witnessed Technoblade _shaking_.

“...Do not speak anymore. I want to enjoy my meal.” The prince whispered and continued to eat. Skeppy, knowing his place, turned quiet and stood by as he waited for his master to finish eating.

The air was tense as Skeppy worried. The prince tried to finish his food quickly, not wanting to think of the past. The silence only let the memories and voices grow louder, and he was losing his appetite. Finally finishing the rest of his meals, Technoblade was about to send away the cart when he noticed the single, untouched muffin sitting in the corner.

“Why is there a muffin? You know I don’t really care for these,” he asked as he pointed toward the baked goods. Skeppy’s head whipped towards the muffin, also now realizing it was there. He immediately dove for the muffin and grabbed it away before realizing how insolent his actions were. He also realized that the two of them could care less about his manners.

Skeppy was red, face flushed, as he held the muffin behind his back. “I- it’s from the baker’s son. I think it was meant for me,” the butler trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Technoblade just barked out in laughter.

 _That_ was it. That was who Skeppy ran away with. The baker’s son.

“Oh, the baker’s son. His name is Bad, isn’t it?” Techno found pleasure in seeing the flinch and mild panic in his butler.

“Yeah, how did you know?” Skeppy’s eyes squinted as if he was trying to read his mind. 

“I'm but a humble prince who cares for his subjects, of course I would know his name.” Techno lied outright, knowing fully well that Skeppy could tell he was blatantly lying.

“Oh yeah? What's the name of the librarian’s son?” 

“Oh that’s easy, it’s Karl. He has the fortune of having the same name as my horse.”  
  
“No, his full name.” 

“Uhhh Karl… Jordan” Technoblade tried, knowing it was wrong. He didn’t remember the man that well, only knowing that he disappeared one day during one of the many wars.

Skeppy snorted and threw a spoon from the cart at the prince. “You’re such a bad liar. Fine, don’t tell me” Techno simply caught the spoon and laughed. Placing it back down on the cart, he finally got out of bed and stretched his tired muscles.

“Help me get dressed, I want to go somewhere immediately,” Techno said.

“But what about the cart-” Skeppy began while trailing after the prince.

“It’s fine. Leave it for the apprentice butler to do. Ranboo, wasn’t it?” He smiled slyly, knowing Skeppy would be shocked. Ranboo being an apprentice butler was knowledge few people knew. Only the king, the personal servants, and the apprentice themselves would know this. 

But of course he knew. After all, when he dismissed Skeppy, he needed another personal butler to aid him. For the next few years until his death, Ranboo was his loyal butler.

“Gods, really! How do you _know_ all of this? You, the prince who took so long to finally remember my name!” The butler huffed as and began to help Techno change.

“As I said, I am but a prince who cares for his people. Besides, you totally know I was messing with you on purpose in the past.”  
  
“Why you-”  
  
“Ah ah, is that treason I hear?”

“-you normal, definitely not irritating prince” Skeppy’s voice was sarcastic as he stuck out his tongue again at Techno.“Eh, could use some work.”  
  
“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Another chapter introducing Nikki, Skeppy, and more! In each chapter, I will sprinkle in some memories of Technoblade's past life to build up the true backstory behind everything. I really enjoy writing this and will definitely have more chapters coming out soon. I really hope y'all are enjoying this! I read so much manga that when I write this, I literally imagine it in manga form so I can't tell if it's nicely written or not. Feel free to ask questions or scream at me in the comments below! (Also should I permaybhaps make a few pages manga style of the first chapter? Let me know!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur didn’t trust Techno because he hated him. From the very start, Technoblade broke records and earned all possible achievements, leaving Wilbur to wither away in his shadow. An older brother and Crown Prince viewed as nothing but dirt next to the talented younger prince. He had heard all of the rumors and voices among the courts and people, but he did nothing about them in the past. There was nothing he could do then, and perhaps not even now at his second chance at life. Even if he didn’t become the youngest knight in this timeline, it didn’t erase all the distrust and contempt his brother had.

_ Technoblade stood outside the jail cell, the dungeons void of all life except for him and the other man wrapped in chains. He had long dismissed the guards, even despite the king’s absolute order to not leave the prisoner unattended and alone.  _

_ But he wasn’t alone. Techno was there. _

_ “Wil, I- I tried to talk to Phil but he just won't LISTEN,” Technoblade whispered in frustration. He rested his head against the bars but received no answer. He didn’t expect one. Wilbur hadn’t spoken to a single person since his imprisonment.  _

_ Instead of speaking, Wilbur began to hum a familiar and chilling tune. Nonsensical mumbling mixed with the haunting melody that slipped past his lips. The humming was nothing short of insane. Wilbur WAS insane. _

_ Techno gritted his teeth at the sound, resisting the urge to cover his ears and shield away all signs of his brother’s crazed antics. Instead, he opened the jail cell and entered it, not bothering to close the door since Wilbur was already in chains. _

_ “-men could go emancipate” He began to mutter lyrics, unintelligible ramblings blending with his hums. If he really wanted to, Wilbur could sing to his heart's content, it wasn’t as if Phil could punish him even more for doing so. But years of habit stayed strong and the man stuck to small, quiet humming. _

_ Gently, he cupped Wilbur’s cheek with his hand and the humming immediately stopped. Even still, Wilbur’s dark and dead eyes refused to look at his own red eyes, glancing off into the dirty stone floor below. _

_ “I’m so sorry Wil. I’ll try harder I promise. If- if it wasn’t for Phil this would’ve never happened-” _

_ Chained hands grabbed his collar, the metal links clanging together as Wilbur reached out and pulled Technoblade right in front of his face. His brown eyes were no longer dark but filled with poison and hatred. _

_ “PHIL?! IT WASN’T JUST PHIL, TECHNO! IT WAS YOU!” Wilbur snarled, the force of his screams and grinding teeth enough to make the cut on his lip reopen and bleed. “Every single time, you were the one who kept pushing me down and down. Just tell the truth Techno, you WANTED me to die.” _

_ He instinctively grabbed Wilbur’s wrist, but he refused to let go, only dragging Technoblade closer and closer. The shackles around his wrists grew red and purple from the force but he didn’t notice at all. Tremors shook throughout his body as Wilbur laughed in his face. _

_ “This is ALL your fault Technoblade, YOU are what killed me.” _

_ “Wilbur stop it!” He pinned his brother’s arms to the wall, preventing him from straining the shackles even more. Blood trickled down Wilbur’s lip and he just smiled before spitting at Techno. He didn’t bother wiping it off. _

_ “I knew it from the start. You hated everything about me, didn’t you? Wanted me gone? I hate your fucking guts as well.” He laughed in his face. “You're just a pathetic, mindless dog. Well guess what?! Your owner doesn’t care about you! HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT ANYONE.” _

_ “SHUT UP!” Technoblade screamed back and let go of Wilbur as if he was burned. The man just continued to cackle. _

_ “Or what, Blade. You’re gonna kill me? I’m dead anyway.” _

_ Techno stilled. No NO he could still save Wilbur. Wilbur was his brother dammit and he would save him. Even if- even if he had to go against Phil. “Wil, please. I can get you out I don’t want you to die-” _

_ “Why?” One lone question filled the dark cell, echoing off the stone walls. Just one word that carried a story and past all at once, _

_ “... You’re my brother Wil-” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “You were never my brother.” Silence cut through the room, the walls not daring to echo out the words. Wilbur’s tone was serious and completely genuine as if he was uttering some sacred truth. Techno couldn’t move. _

_ “I want Phil to kill me as a person.” Dark eyes met his own. “And I want him to put you down like the dog you are.” _

_ ~~~ _

The small legs of an eight-year-old child made strides down a long hallway. Technoblade frowned in displeasure at how  _ slow _ his smaller body was. He was spoiled by the hulking, tall body from his past that could easily cross hallways in just a few steps. The amount of effort it took to simply walk down the castle hallways - _ were they always this long? _ \- was tiresome if not embarrassing for the once-feared warlord. Behind him, Skeppy hurried to catch up to Techno’s fast pace.

“Wait, Techno! You never said where we were going.” The butler was shorter and had smaller strides, yet he managed to keep up the pace without any effort. If walking fast was going to tire him then Skeppy would never have become a personal servant. Still, it irked Tecno a bit to see how easily he kept up with him.

“Well, I was thinking of going to the garden,” Technoblade replied. It was true. Much to his embarrassment, even when he was twenty-one, he had yet to fully explore every bit of his palace, instead living most of his life in certain areas like the training grounds or his office. Never had he once taken a single step into the famed gardens of the royal palace. 

This lifetime, he was planning on changing that. He was far from the type of person who would enjoy flowers, but he would gladly accept any changes he could do in this lifetime. Everything he missed out on in his old life he would do now.

“The gardens? That’s in the complete opposite direction!” Skeppy yelled out. Technoblade faltered in his steps and paused. Again, he never once visited the gardens. 

“Ah… I knew that.” Instantly, he turned around and headed towards where the gardens actually were. “I was just testing you.”

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” The words were dripping in sarcasm.

Skeppy rolled his eyes and laughed before walking ahead of Techno to lead him towards the gardens. It went against too many social customs for a prince to follow a butler, but none of that mattered to the two. And Technoblade knew deep down that he would follow Skeppy with his life, and that the other would do the same.

“I am a master in navigation Skeppy, do not doubt me. I know every detail of this castle by heart.” The two reached a turn to another hallway. “Ahead of us should be a painting of the famed hero of the North, Steve. Very important person.”

Taking a left, they did indeed reach a painting.

“Techno, that's a polar bear. In what way is he an important hero?”

“Well, he’s got a painting so he’s gotta be important. I don’t see a painting of you- oh wait. Probably because you’re not important,” Technoblade said casually. Skeppy gave him an irked smile.   
  
“Is it treason to kill a prince?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“What a shame.”

Eventually, the two arrived at the gardens with ease as Skeppy led the way. As the doors opened, Technoblade stood at the entrance to the outdoors and paused. The sight alone was beyond his expectations.

The garden was  _ breathtaking _ . 

He should have expected this, honestly. While the king was a powerful and skilled leader, he was also a builder. His own taste and penchant for aesthetics could be seen integrated into every aspect of the castle,  _ especially _ the gardens.

Buildings and statues stood tall and proud as centerpieces in the large expanse of the garden. There were giant glass crystals that reflected the light and fountains adorned with gold. He could see arches with vines falling gracefully to the ground and a gazebo near a small lake. Trees and bushes danced around the structures and were surrounded by stone paths engraved with sparkling gems. And of course, in every single space possible, were flowers gracefully crammed into every nook and cranny.

The bright burst of color filled his vision no matter where he looked. The pale whites of Queen Anne’s lace contrasted with the dark red carnations. The blue hydrangeas near the crystal complemented well with the light purple lilacs. 

Technoblade was no expert on building or aesthetics, but even he knew beauty when he saw it. The garden was  _ gorgeous _ .

In stunned awe, Techno slowly walked along the sparkling paths as he examined the statues and endless flowers. The attention to detail and care in this garden was unbelievable, and it truly was a shame that he never experienced this beauty in his past life. At least he got to see it now.

Having made his mind, Technoblade decided to explore every single area of the garden from head to toe, dragging a confused and exhausted Skeppy behind him. The garden was by no means small, extending so far that he could barely see the end of it with his own eyes. While he found joy and exhilaration exploring the garden for the first time, Skeppy did not feel the same.

“Why are you even doing this again? You  _ never _ come to the garden. NEVER,” Skeppy complained when Technoblade stopped for the millionth time to examine a flowerbed.

“Exactly, I have never been to the garden. Therefore, I shall take my sweet time enjoying my first visit. It certainly would not be my last.” At that, Skeppy just groaned and continued to follow the prince. 

“But why now of all times?”   
  
Technoblade paused to ponder. He couldn’t exactly tell Skeppy that the burdens and regrets of his miserable past life has compelled him to take actions he never before considered doing. He wasn’t an  _ idiot _ . But he did consider how funny it would be for an eight-year-old to suddenly give ominous, philosophical commentary about the dark future.

So instead, Technoblade just smiled at Skeppy before walking away. His butler sputtered indignantly at the blatant avoidance of his question and huffed as he continued to follow.

While walking on the left side of the garden, near the back and against the garden walls, Techno noticed a discrepancy. Between two flower beds filled to the brim was an empty plot of dirt, wide enough to fit plenty of trees. The empty, brown soil stood out against the explosion of colors everywhere else.

“Why is this spot empty?” he asked Skeppy. 

“From what I have heard from the gardeners, this spot was meant to hold a new batch of flowers coming in from another kingdom, only for the flowers to wilt early on the way. The gardeners are currently trying to find other plants to fill this spot.” Skeppy answered dutifully, not hesitating to answer.

Techno hummed before crouching down to touch the soft soil which was loose and cool to touch. Suddenly, he got an idea.

Technoblade wanted to change everything in his past and future. Instead of becoming a knight, he decided to rest and live his life the way he wanted. If he wasn’t going to spar and train every possible hour, then he might as well find another activity to occupy his time and mind. Something he never did or once considered doing before.

“Skeppy. Tell the gardeners that I have claimed this spot and to bring some gardening tools over here as fast as possible. After that, go get as many books as you can from the library.” Techno ordered, still focused on the soil.

Skeppy gaped in shock for what seemed to be the second time today. Everything Technoblade was doing was going against everything he ever knew about the prince. It was simply  _ jarring _ . 

Still, he was a butler with a job to do. “What type of books, Your Highness?” He asked.

“Hmmm,” Technoblade hummed as he thought. Now, what exactly did he want to plant in this small plot of land? His mind wandered to the mashed potatoes and potato soup he had earlier this morning. 

_ Of course _ .

“Get everything related to planting and caring for potatoes. Books about simple gardening as well. Pronto.” 

And with that, Skeppy bowed once before simply vanishing from sight. In just a few moments, he could hear the faint noises of some gardeners coming with tools and supplies. Techno took off his cape and coat, shedding most of his layers before carefully placing them into a heap on the ground. Rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, he stretched a bit as he got ready.

Planting potatoes huh… Well. First time for everything.

~~~

By the end of the day, Technoblade left the garden covered head to toe in dirt, but also content and satisfied. In only a matter of a few hours, Technoblade had skimmed through endless books on farming potatoes and, with the minimal aid of the gardeners, had begun his own little potato farm. To be fair, it would have been best to wait a few days to fully study and grasp a solid understanding of the art of potatoes before he started actually planting them, but despite his strategic and careful nature, he easily gained hyper fixations and easily gave in to the urge to listen to his impulses. The idea of trying something new and changing past events was just so enticing, no matter how small. If there was a crazed vigor in his potato planting, then no one dared to comment on it.

That day, Prince Technoblade planted and cared for his own small garden of potatoes by hand.  _ Gods _ how he loved it. Fooling around to plant potatoes wasn’t the wisest use of his time, but after years of endless war and bloodshed, even the most mundane things seemed like a blessing.

Not to mention to pure exhilaration he felt when planting potatoes. It was far from sparring or training with his sword, yet he felt the same satisfaction when his muscles screamed from working and when sweat would cake down his face.

The entire time Skeppy had been staring at him with a mix of shock and confusion, flinching every time Techno shoved his entire hands into the soil. The prince had the same spark in his eyes planting potatoes as he did with fighting. To see the absolute dedication and determination the prince once put into improving his swordsmanship into digging holes and planting was truly conflicting. Good for Techno… but  _ why _ ?

He tried asking multiple times, only to be given more orders and threats of joining him with gardening.

Instead of accepting Technoblade’s offer and helping him plant, Skeppy just submitted himself to fetching more and more books. Endless trips back and forth to the library and garden were more appealing than playing around in the dirt to him. Even if the library was on the opposite end of the castle.

Technoblade was currently walking back to his room to bathe, not caring for the trail of dirty footprints and soil he left in his tracks. He was alone since he had sent Skeppy to bring the collection of books to his room ahead of time and get even more books from the library. He had more studying and research to do when he got back to his room. It was a mere potato garden, yes, but it was  _ his _ potato garden and he would make sure it flourished.

A small smile graced his lips as his steps became a little lighter. Never did he expect to find such joy in planting potatoes of all things. He couldn’t help it if there was a bit of pep in his steps. It wouldn’t be odd for an eight-year-old to be skipping down the halls, right?   


( _ Technoblade forgets that he is no ordinary eight-year-old and that him skipping, even at a young age, was a never-before-seen sight. _ )

“Techno. What in the gods happened to you?” Techno turned to the corridor to his right where he saw Wilbur. Behind him was Nikki who stood by, not blinking an eye to his dirty appearance. The Crown Prince stood in shock as he took in the messy state of his younger brother. It made sense, after all. Techno’s pink hair was tied up but still clumped and covered in dirt. There was soil smudged on his cheeks and his white dress shirt was greatly stained brown-

_ Oh yeah _ . He left his cape and other layers back in the garden. Oh well, someone would get it eventually.

Before he could even answer Wilbur, his brother was already walking towards Techno to fuss over him. He hesitated to touch the dirty clothes, deciding to merely hover and tut his tongue in disapproval.

“Hullo, Wil,” he said with a smile, still in a positive high from planting potatoes. His brother faltered and gave him a questioning look. 

“What were you even doing? Were- You were fighting with Skeppy again, weren’t you?” Wilbur’s tone questioning.

Techno shook his head. “No, I was just doing some gardening-”

Wilbur’s smile turned into a frown. “You don’t have to lie to me Techno, I’m your brother after all. You probably just got so dirty after fighting Skeppy. Gosh, he always makes a mess in his spars.”

“It’s not a lie, Wil. I was planting potatoes.”   
  
“Potatoes? Hah!” Wilbur laughed bitterly. “You don’t have to tell such a bad lie to me Techno, you can just say you were sparring. I already know how you want to be a knight and all.” His voice began to turn sour as he questioned him.

The other prince sputtered. He was telling the truth. But looking at Wilbur’s bitter face, his own heart sunk. How could he forget? They were still kids, but even so far into the past, even  _ now _ , Wilbur still  _ hated _ him.

_ “This is ALL your fault Technoblade, YOU are what killed me.” _

Did his hate fester and grow to such an extent when Wilbur was just ten? Did Techno’s actions deserve such hatred to be pointed at his eight-year-old self? This animosity was prevalent even now, and it only began to grow as time went on.

Wilbur was only  _ ten _ , yet he hated his eight-year-old brother.

Wilbur didn’t trust Techno because he  _ hated _ him. From the very start, Technoblade broke records and earned all possible achievements, leaving Wilbur to wither away in his shadow. An older brother and Crown Prince viewed as nothing but dirt next to the talented younger prince. He had heard all of the rumors and voices among the courts and people, but he did nothing about them in the past. There was nothing he could do then, and perhaps not even now at his second chance at life. Even if he didn’t become the youngest knight in this timeline, it didn’t erase all the distrust and contempt his brother had.

“I-”

“Ah, Your Highness! I got the other books on potatoes for you! You would not  _ believe _ how many books on potatoes  _ alone _ are in the library- Oh, Wilbur! Nikki! Hello!” Skeppy called out from behind Techno as he ran up, a stack of books balanced in his arms. He obliviously smiled at the two as he barged into the conversation, earning Nikki’s glare. “What?”

Wilbur froze in surprise, eyes flicking between the books in Skeppy’s arms and back towards Techno still covered in dirt. Realization clicked. As if he was burned, he flinched away from his brother and stepped back. 

“O-oh. You  _ were  _ um, gardening. I see I- I am sorry Techno. I’m just-” Wilbur stuttered out in a panic, eyes refusing to look at Techno’s and he nervously stepped backward. His fist was clenched tight and clutched against his pristine coat. Wilbur was guilty. He felt  _ ashamed _ .

“Wil, it’s fine I promise-” Techno began, trying to get closer to the Crown Prince, only for Nikki to step in between him and Wilbur.

“I am sorry, Technoblade, but His Highness has somewhere he has to be. It was a pleasure seeing you, but we must be going.” She stood between the two as a barrier, saving Wilbur who seemed to shrink in and hide behind her much smaller frame. She smiled at Techno, if a bit sadly, and he bit his lip while he retreated. Nikki was just trying to stop the situation from escalating, he understood that. 

While Technoblade wanted to talk it all out with Wilbur, he knew his brother wasn’t ready for it, and Nikki just wanted to help them out. He could respect that. Taking a step to the side, Techno watched as Nikki bowed in respect before leading Wilbur away and down the hall. The Crown Prince still refused to look at him.

Finally, the two were gone and out of sight.

“What was that about?” Skeppy asked, still clueless about the situation.

Technoblade, suddenly so tired and drained, didn’t bother giving an answer and continued walking back to his room.

_ Wilbur... _

~~~

A few days later, Technoblade was up in the middle of the night and swiftly descending through the halls. He was not even properly dressed, wearing only pants and a pajama shirt. He was in a rush.

‘ _ I can’t believe I planted the wrong batch of seed potatoes! I’m a fool- _ ’

In the ungodly hours of the night, he woke up in a rush of panic when he realized he made a mistake. When planting more potatoes in a section of his own little farm, he picked the wrong batch of seeds to plant. The ones he put were too young and most likely still dormant and would have a lower total germination percentage. He was a  _ fool _ .

There was not a day that went by that Technoblade did not spend hours under the sun, planting and cultivating the soil and seeds. He had not seen a single trace of Wilbur since that one encounter, and while he could have looked for his brother himself, he doubted Wil would appreciate it. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway.

_ ‘I’m sorry that I’m talented, please don’t hate me?’ _

Technoblade wasn’t exactly an expert and sibling relationships. He was far from being a good brother, or even a decent one at that. Instead, he drowned himself in his gardening hobby to drown out the thoughts and voices in his head. Such a large fixation had already taken root in his mind, and he refused to achieve anything less than perfect.

So that was why Technoblade was on a mission to uproot and replant all of his potato seeds, 2 AM be damned. His mind refused to let him sleep anyways when all the mistakes and failures of his life swirled around in his mind. Yes, it was just potatoes. That didn’t stop him from sprinting down the halls with little to no layers. He reached the gardens, finally knowing the route by heart after his many trips, and walked towards the left where his own little farm laid.

Despite the dark night sky, the light from the moon and lamps illuminated the garden. The sparkling path reflected the light and was like a glowing guide through the flowers. His own patch of soil was unfortunately out of the light’s range and only had the faint glow from the moon. But Techno’s eyes were sharper than most, and he could see things in the dark most people could not.

A shadow shifted, and Techno froze. In a graceful swiftness that demonstrated his years of training, he hid behind a nearby statue. Carefully gazing out, he saw a cloaked figure moving carefully along the walls on the right side of the garden, far away and almost out of sight. The far range almost prevented him from realizing that the figure was unbelievably small for an adult man. It wasn’t an adult. It was a child. 

It was  _ Wilbur _ .

Questions of why and how whirled around his head as he saw Wilbur sneak along the edge and shadows, obviously too used to this routine of hiding yet easily visible to the trained eye. Wilbur was not trained in stealth, he was a Crown Prince who studied politics and economics. That was what Technoblade and the personal servants were for. So why was Wilbur sneaking out-

Then he remembered. 

When he was twelve and Wilbur fourteen, he remembered finding Wilbur sneaking past the garden walls and out into the town. He remembered following, carefully hidden out of sight as he watched Wilbur enter a small house. He remembered watching Wilbur smile at an older woman as she led him over to her wall of instruments, to a  _ guitar _ . He remembered watching through the windows, unable to hear but witnessing the joy on his brother’s face as he strummed the guitar and opened his mouth to sing.

Technoblade also remembered the hatred and venom on his face aimed towards him as Techno told Philza about Wilbur’s nightly escapades. The anger quickly turned into utter grief when the king banned him from ever playing an instrument again, including his own voice.

Technoblade was no longer the twelve-year-old child who watched his brother through a window, or the adult who watched him die. He was an eight-year-old child who just wanted to enjoy his life and plant potatoes.

And Wilbur was sneaking outside.

All he ever wanted was to change the past and future. So why? Why was Techno following Wilbur just like he did in his other life? Although he was eight instead of twelve, he found himself following his brother, hiding in the shadows better than Wilbur who remained clueless to his presence. Why was he doing exactly what he did before? Are the events from the past doomed to repeat again.

He didn't want Wilbur to be devastated after Phil punished forced him away from music. He didn’t want to see Wilbur smile at the guitar in a way he rarely smiled at Techno. He didn’t want to follow behind Wilbur and see all of this happen again before his very eyes.

So he didn't.

“Wilbur.” He stepped out of his hiding spot, only a few paces from where Wilbur was trying to climb over the garden walls. The other prince froze in fear as he stared at Technoblade below him from on top of the wall.

“I- Techno, what are you-?” Wilbur paused, then hung his head down. “Please don’t tell Phil.”

There it was. His voice was small and trembled in not just fear, but sorrow and frustration. Wilbur was angry at himself for being caught, but also at Techno who always seemed to be in his way at every turn. Even though he begged Technoblade not to tell Phil, he sounded resigned as if he knew it was fruitless.

If it was the past Tecnoblade, Wilbur would have been right to give up hope. After all, Techno was the one to expose his actions to their father, and in turn, Wilbur was forced to give up his love for music. He was right to not trust him.

But Technoblade wasn’t his past self.

“I won’t.” Wilbur whipped his head up in surprise at his words, almost tumbling off the garden wall. In just a second, Techno had climbed the wall next to Wilbur and held onto his arm, making sure he didn’t fall. “If we stay up here, we’ll be seen by any guards in a watchtower. Let’s go?”

Wilbur still sat there, shocked. “Wha- go?”

The sound of his brother’s confusion made Techno drop his grip. Ah. Right. Wilbur didn’t trust him. It was foolish of him to think his brother would listen or let Techno tag along.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were going to sneak out and I wanted to join you… I’ll just head back-”

“Wait!” Wilbur’s hand reached and held onto the sleeve of his pajama shirt. Techno looked back in confusion. He knew Wilbur didn’t want him to be there, so why was he holding him back? “Why aren’t you telling Phil?”

Why  _ wasn’t  _ Techno telling Phil? 

Well, he had no reason to. In fact, he didn’t even want to talk to the man who called himself his father. Why did even tell Phil about Wilbur in the past? Was it for recognition? Approval?

Technoblade thought back to the very night he found Wilbur. He was only twelve, but he had earned his place on a high position among the knights, not by his title but his skills alone. Only twelve but already a commander of the royal guard.

_ No wonder Wilbur was jealous. He was an obnoxious brat. _

Ironically enough, it was on this very garden wall where he saw the fourteen-year-old Wilbur climb over and escape into the town. Technoblade was patrolling around in a watchtower that overlooked the garden. He wasn’t supposed to be there, or even patrolling that night, but he couldn’t sleep, and overworking himself was just a habit at this point. It was probably why Wilbur didn’t expect anyone to see him under the moonlight after years of evading guards and memorizing patrol schedules. He would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for Techno.

_ No wonder Wilbur hated him _ .

Wilbur had slipped into the town while Techno was still on the tower. While he could have just reported it back to Phil immediately, something inside him urged him to follow, so he did. Jumping out of the tower, the twelve-year-old quickly scaled down the walls and out of the palace before running to where he last saw Wilbur.

He found the Crown Prince easily, even with attempts at hiding under a cloak. After that, it was a simple task of following without being seen. It was almost laughable how easy it was to tail Wilbur. Even if Technoblade wasn’t skilled in stealth, he doubted the prince would have even noticed him if he only walked a few paces behind him out in the open. 

The two arrived at a generic building, barely distinct from the similar houses around it. With a few knocks, the door was opened to reveal an elderly woman. Looking at her closely, the fogginess and dull sheen in her eyes showed she was blind, yet she smiled warmly at the prince before inviting him in. Technoblade doubted she even knew he was a prince, but merely just a boy who loved music. 

Technoblade looked in through the window without worry. Wilbur was blind to his surroundings and the woman was straight up _blind_ blind. He watched as the prince took off his coat without any trace of fear or caution, revealing his features and clothes too expensive to be normal. While it was fine in front of the blind woman, he was exposed to the very window Technoblade was at. If he could see in so easily, then so could anyone else. Wilbur was being  _ careless _ .

He was  _ this _ close to barging in the house and dragging Wilbur back to the castle where it was  _ safe _ . No matter how much Wilbur tried, he wasn’t the best fighter, far from it. His strength was in his words, and words would not prevent him from being stabbed with a knife.

But then Wilbur picked up a guitar that was resting against the wall, and Technoblade stopped. Wilbur smiled. He smiled so warmly, gazing at the instrument with such fondness. When was the last time Wilbur looked at him like that? … Did Wilbur  _ ever _ smile at him like that?

There must have been at least one instance, one moment when Wilbur smiled at Technoblade like he was the world, but none came to mind. Instead, all he saw was Wilbur giving that soft smile to a guitar with only a window separating him and Techno. 

Then, Wilbur began to play. If he thought that smile was warm, then the face his brother made when he sang was one of pure joy and content. Fingers danced across the strings and each strum brought a smile not only to Wilbur’s face but the old lady who sat nearby, eyes closed but mouth turned upwards in a bright grin.

The inside of the house looked so comforting and bright with joy, filled with the chords of a guitar and the smooth voice of a prince. Outside, Technoblade stood amongst the street in the dark, unable to hear the barest hint of sound or spared a single ray of light. Even so, resting a hand on his lips, he found himself smiling. 

Even if he couldn’t hear Wilbur’s singing or music, he could almost  _ feel  _ it through the window from the happiness exuding from his older brother. Wilbur was happy,  _ truly _ happy. Therefore,  _ he  _ was happy.

All thoughts of telling Phil fizzled and died away, a candle snuffed out to join the dark night sky. There was no need to stifle and kill the light that was Wilbur. If something could make his brother smile, even if it wasn’t him, then he would gladly let things go.

...At least, that’s what he thought.

Whether it was out of concern for Wilbur’s safety, curiosity at his actions, or the small yearning to be a part of that warm scene, Technoblade stayed outside and waited until Wilbur finally left the house. It was extremely late by then, that or extremely early. The sun would rise soon. Still, Technoblade managed to hide in the slowly diminishing shadows as he tailed Wilbur back home. 

Technoblade thanked the gods he was there that night while Wilbur cursed them with every part of his being.

He saw the signs before it happened. There were figures in other shadows, the rustling of cloaks and almost silent footsteps around them. Wilbur did not see the incoming knife. Technoblade did.   


Jumping out from his hiding spot, Techno took out his sword and blocked the incoming attacker before kicking them away. Wilbur stumbled away from the attacker, but he wasn’t sure to be more scared of the thugs that surrounded the two or Techno himself.

Wilbur screamed and shouted words at Techno, but all words blurred away in his mind as he focused solely on the people surrounding them. With the sword in his hands and the killing intent surrounding him, this was where he felt at home. Even the added pressure of protecting his brother did nothing to diminish the energy rippling under his skin. Looking up, Technoblade’s red eyes stared straight at the attacker he just kicked.

Technoblade  _ smiled _ .

After that, it was a bloodbath. Bodies of the people who dared to ambush and attack the Crown Prince fell to the ground. Wilbur was frozen in place as he shook. There was not a single drop of blood on him thanks to Technoblade’s efforts, but the same could not be said for him. He didn’t care if blood got on him anyways.

By now, the sun was slowly rising, the prettiest hues of the sunset bleeding into the sky. His red eyes met with fearful, brown eyes. “We’re going to Phil.”   
  
If Technoblade only looked closer, he would have realized that Wilbur wasn’t shaking because he was scared of the attackers or blood. He was scared of Techno. He was afraid of  _ Phil _ .

None of that reached Techno. He was too focused- no. He wasn’t focused. His mind was still running, energy buzzing and blood rushing in his veins. His mind was a mess. He was  _ angry _ .

Wilbur escaped the castle and guards with ease, all alone and without company. That meant Wilbur went years going around town without any protection. Not servants, knights, or even Nikki. 

Nikki.

Technoblade snarled. There was no possible reality where Nikki was not aware of Wilbur sneaking out at night. Considering the fact that no one, not even King Phil himself knew about this, it meant there was someone skilled covering up Wilbur’s tracks.

There was no one else but Nikki who would do that. 

He would later find out the truth that it  _ was _ Nikki who let Wilbur sneak out at night. If it wasn’t for her priceless skills and the many years it takes to raise a new personal servant of Nikki’s caliber, she would have been beheaded on the spot for her insolence. But she was spared. That was one of the few good things Technoblade managed to do in the past.

But since Nikki was left to cover for Wilbur in the castle, that meant the prince was alone without any protection out in the town. On the very same day Technoblade followed him, Wilbur was attacked for the first time. If it wasn’t for him, the Crown Prince would’ve been killed that very day.

_ Wilbur would've been killed _ .

Technoblade felt no remorse in dragging his brother before the king and exposing his actions. Nikki was dragged in too, both of them being punished. Still, at that time he felt no regret, just relief that this would never happen again.

That feeling didn’t change, even when Nikki was forced out of the room and Phil left, leaving him and Wilbur who was kneeling on the ground, tears still running down his face from when he heard his punishment. The Crown Prince was forever forbidden from using any musical instrument, not even his own voice to sing. Technoblade made a move to leave, wanting to give his brother time to grieve, only for him to roughly grab his sleeve.

“Why? Why did you tell Phil? WHY?!” He screamed in his face, spit flying and tears still running as he glared at Technoblade with utter hatred.

“If it wasn’t for me Wil, you would've been killed-”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME DIE!” His scream echoed around the room. Wilbur’s eyes were wide in fury and his mouth twisted in a snarl. His grip on Techno’s sleeve tightened, ripping the seams as he dragged him closer. His eyes never left Techno’s own. “You should have just let me be killed by those thugs than let me live a life without music.”

His hands were frantic now, shaking as it slowly ripped his sleeve. “If I died you would have become the Crown Prince. Isn’t that all you ever wanted, Techno? All that power and Phil’s affection. Why didn’t you let me die?” The sleeve finally ripped, and Wilbur’s hand fell to the floor.

“Why....”

Technoblade finally averted his eyes, looking away from the broken shell that was once his brother. “You don’t understand.” And with that, he left the room. It was Technoblade who didn’t understand, and as he walked away, words and voices echoed in his head, no matter the distance between him and Wilbur.

_ Why? Why? W H Y? _

**_“Why Technoblade. Tell me!”_ **

Another harsh tug to the sleeves of his pajama shirt shook him, and Technoblade snapped back to the present. There, below him on the garden walls as his brother, warm brown eyes staring at his own red eyes. But this Wilbur still had light in his eyes. This Wilbur was still alive.

This time, Technoblade had the right answer. He kneeled down, matching Wilbur’s height sitting down. “It’s because I’m your brother Wil. I will always help you.”

Technoblade had failed to help Wilbur in the past. He failed as a brother. He wouldn’t fail this time.

Wilbur stared deep into his red eyes, looking for any sign of lies or deceit, but he found nothing. Instead, he let go of his sleeve and sighed.

“Okay. Fine… Let’s go?” For the first time in forever, Wilbur offered Technoblade a hand, and without any hesitation, he took it. Together, they jumped off the garden walls into the town.

Although Wilbur was still a bit wary and confused, he was open and freely talking to Techno without abandon. He wasn’t sure how to respond, not used to talking to his brother after what seemed like years to him. Also, he was just naturally awkward and socially inept. Trying to hide his anxiety, he fiddled around with the hems of his pajama shirt. Wilbur took notice.

“Oh gods Techno you’re not even wearing decent clothing. You’re practically naked.” Well, he wasn’t actually naked, but it was true that sleepwear was to never be seen worn outside, especially not by someone like a prince. He must’ve been aghast at his blatant lack of dignity. “You must be cold!” 

That too.

Wilbur began to unclasp his cloak, only for Techno to hold his hand and stop him. “Don’t. It’s okay Wilbur, I’m not that cold. I rather have you keep the cloak on and not get recognized.”   
  
His brother snorted. “Says the guy with pink hair.”  _ Touche _ .

“Technically you have pink hair, or would if you didn’t dye it.”

“And look like you? No way.” His words were teasing with no malicious intent behind them. It surprised Techno, and even Wilbur himself.

A pause.

“Tell me the truth, Techno. Why aren’t you ratting me out to Phil?”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he did what Wilbur asked and told him the truth. 

“It would make you sad.”

Wilbur gaped at him from underneath the hood of the cloak, eyes wide in surprise. Technoblade seemed to be getting that look from a lot of people these days. Eventually, Wilbur looked away, and he thought that was the end of the conversation.

He heard a rustle before having cloth shoved into his face as Wilbur forcibly draped the cloak around Techno’s shoulders, albeit messily. “You need this more than me, I’m not letting my brother run around in jammies.” His face was slightly flushed as he looked away. “Besides, I had a coat underneath. I’m fine.”

“Thank you, Wil.”

“... No. Thank  _ you _ , Techno.”

Walking between alleyways and streets, Technoblade made an effort to respond back and participate in the conversations while pretending not to know the way. He already knew where Wilbur was heading, and before they knew it, the two reached the generic house.

After a few taps on the wooden door, the same elderly lady came out, looking no different than she would in a few years. She was still blind, yet she realized Technoblade’s presence immediately.

“Ah hello, Ms. Mila! I brought my brother over this time, I hope you don’t mind.” His voice was cheeky, knowing that the woman would not mind at all, yet his tone was still respectful and polite.

“Of course I don’t mind. Welcome, come in my dears. The guitar is tuned and waiting like always deary.” She ushered the two inside, and Technoblade was immediately hit with a burst of warmth. The room truly was as warm as he thought in the past, warmer even. It was a comfy, cozy place that almost felt more like home than the palace.

In a blink of an eye, he was pushed onto a couch plush with quilts and pillows and hot chocolate found its way into his hands.

“Shhh.” Ms. Mila lightly patted him before sitting on another chair. “You don’t want to miss his performance.”

He wanted to ask about what performance, but he didn’t want to make a noise when she specifically told him to be quiet. Instead, he sipped quietly from the mug and waited patiently. In front of them, Wilbur was on a chair, adjusting his grip on the guitar.

The same, bright smile he saw in the past graced Wilbur’s face once more as the boy stared at the guitar, and Technoblade gripped the mug tighter. It was worth everything in his life to have Wilbur smile like that again.

Then Wilbur began to sing. A few chords in, his mouth opened as lyrics began to flow out of his mouth. A gentle yet honest voice spread across the room.

If it wasn’t for his tight grip, he would’ve dropped the mug onto the floor. Wilbur’s voice was ethereal and just as bright as his smile. This was the first time he had ever truly heard Wilbur play an instrument or sing, and just like the garden, it was breathtaking.

Standing outside the window and watching it all through the glass didn’t hold a candle to how it felt to truly hear the passion and love in Wilbur’s every word and strum of the guitar. Even if his voice was still young and he had the vocal cords of a ten-year-old, it was more than enough to fill the room with so much warmth and  _ joy _ . He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he sounded like when he sang at fourteen years old when he sounded like an angel today.

Hours and days could have passed by and Technoblade would have been content living the rest of his life at that moment. A moment he never got to experience in his past life. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes before he willed them away. He would not cry.

Witnessing Wilbur singing only proved how much music was intertwined with his very soul, and because of him, music was ripped apart the moment he was banned. He remembered the yearning and melancholy looks Wilbur would give at the pianos in the halls of other palaces or the guitars people would play openly on the streets. The pained, dead look in his eyes was nothing like the hopeful, joyous ones Wilbur had now.

Finally, the song (or was it songs, plural?) finished. The sun began to peek over the horizon and the warm hues of orange and pink filtered through the windows when Wilbur finally stopped strumming. He placed the guitar back on the wall, fingers lingering on the wood before turning back to the two audience members.

“What did you think?” Immediately, the two of them burst into applause. Ms. Mila smiled and showered him with all the compliments he deserved. However, his stare remained fixed onto Techno.

“...It was beautiful, Wilbur. Truly.” He stared back into Wilbur’s brown eyes, almost golden as the light of the sunset reflected into fractals, his voice genuine and honest in every way.

Wilbur believed him.

“Thank you, Techno.”

And Wilbur  _ smiled _ . The same smile he had when holding the guitar and singing with his heart. That very same smile was now aimed at him. Wilbur’s rosy cheeks and squinted eyes paired along with his large smile, showing a missing tooth. It was full of passion, warmth, and  _ love _ , and for the first time in any life, it was a smile meant for  _ him _ .

A tear fell, then another. Technoblade couldn’t stop himself from crying, a steady stream of tears falling down his cheeks and onto his laps. Wilbur panicked and he rushed over to Techno, only to be pulled into a hug.

“It was so beautiful.”

Everything about Wilbur was beautiful. As Wilbur’s own arms wrapped around his eight-year-old body, Technoblade cried into the shoulder of his older brother. This was his beautiful brother, alive and full of warmth and love. Nothing would ever take this away from him, nothing. Not him, not Phil.

Not even Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Another chapter pog! We're finally slowly getting to see the different changes Technow will do in his second life while also getting glimpses of his past. The next chapter will focus more on Phil and the others! I'll also occasionally write in chapters solely focused on the past because WOW a lot happened that made Techno the way he was now. Also!!! I'm editing and changing a bit of the previous chapters just to adjust a little so reread them when you have the time! Once again, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy my attempts to shove Techno into a typical isekai manga plot bahahah.

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! Welcome to another story written by NKhaotic! I am a MAJOR fan of Isekai/Reincarnation/Time Travel manga so I decided to make my own version but SBI! I hope y'all will enjoy a new fic that I will start working on. I will still update and focus on other fics but this is also a big passion of mine and I am sure to enjoy it. Please comment down below or yell at me at nkhaotic @Tumblr or ileyank @IG. Thanks for reading!


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